by Steve Cole
Imagine my face when I saw what awaited us was . . . the front door to my house.
MY HOUSE!
(Actually, seeing as I’m so generous, you don’t have to imagine my face.)
The more the walls split open, the more of my house I saw, and the more I couldn’t believe my eyes. So I gave my eyes a brief but brutal interrogation – and still I couldn’t grasp it. The flaming torches and the candles seemed on my side, burning brighter, raising the levels of brilliance – although, frankly, things didn’t get much more brilliant than this.
It was my house! I was 98.3% certain of it.
I recognised the scratch in the paintwork on the front door from where I’d fallen with the key the month before. I saw the chip in the windowsill from where I’d tried to climb inside the front room while dressed as a zombie two Halloweens ago. The cave roof somehow folded away into its own shadows, like an open-top car (or an open-top cave, anyway), and I could see the whole of my house – every brick still in place. There was my bedroom window, still ajar from where I’d fallen through it. There was the attic window and the roof, which from down here looked to be intact.
Did I mention IT WAS MY HOUSE??
“It’s here,” I breathed. “The weirdwind carried it down through all those levels and it’s still in one piece!”
“That’s kind of freaky.” Alfie whistled. “I guess it’s, like, Merlin magic, right?”
“I guess.” I felt suddenly homesick – not sick of looking at my home, I mean sick of being down here away from everything I knew, feeling out of my depth (Merlin magic, for flip’s sake!) and wishing I could get back.
Of course, to make that wish . . .
“The Humamon Star Jewel.” I clapped Alfie on the arm. “Come on, it’s got to be around here somewhere, right?”
“Maybe it’s inside the house?” Alfie suggested, his different sized eyes taking in the brickwork. “Sure is different from the holes in the cliffsides back home. Want to give me the tour?”
I beamed. “Walk this way!”
“If I could walk that way, I’d be a human being instead of a monster.”
“I wish!”
Alfie chuckled. “We’ll both be wishing, dude – any moment now!”
The front door swung open as I pushed on it. I stepped into my hall and turned on the light. What a feeling! The coat-stand had fallen over and there were books and magazines all over the floor. But aside from the mess, everything looked okay.
I heard a quiet scuffling noise just behind me. Turning, I found Alfie scratching his head, looking all around. “You have, like, colour on the walls!”
“It’s called paint. Zola’s gonna love it!” I stuck my head in the downstairs loo. (Not literally. I mean I looked in through the door.) I caught movement in the water at the bottom; my reflection, of course. I’d half expected all the water to have drained away or soaked the carpet. But here it was, where it was supposed to be, just as I’d hoped.
Moving through to the living room, I saw furniture had crashed about and books and DVDs were scattered all over the place. But happily there was no sign of Rachel Thing squashed flat against the wall like roadkill.
I moved to the most important part of the room – the TV, which was lying on its back – and heaved it back upright on its stand. It was fine – not a crack, not a mark. I heard a quiet hissing noise. Coming from . . . the wall?
It stopped.
The pipes for the central heating, I thought. And the hot water tank in the loft. What if they’ve leaked?
“Wow, you have floors with fur on!” Alfie called from outside.
I joined him in the hall. “It’s carpet.”
“Wha—? You have a pet car?”
“Never mind.” I turned and hurried up the stairs. The carpet was dry. Everything seemed just as I’d unwillingly left it, what felt like weeks ago. I caught a quiet pattering noise coming from my bedroom. Frowning, I threw open the door.
There was no movement except the curtain’s flutter in the breeze (well, it was kind of an open-top cave now, right?), catching at the pages of my treasured Monsters of the Movies book that lay open on the sill.
I felt kind of emotional. I was back. Back in my own little world. My own little world, that was currently at the bottom of someone else’s little world that was hidden beneath my wider, bigger world. And that Star Jewel was somewhere to be found around here – so soon everything would be back in its proper place, myself included.
I heard a pattering sound overhead. Or at least, I was 68% to 73% sure I did.
“” cried Alfie.
I ran outside, to find Alfie pointing an accusing pincer at the toilet mat on the bathroom floor. “Er, don’t worry about that,” I told him. “It’s cool.”
“What flattened him?”
“He never felt a thing, I promise.” I listened out for the pattering noise, but I couldn’t hear anything else. There was a funny smell, though. A kind of old, damp smell. Of course, it was most likely me and Alfie after our dip in the raging river water.
Alfie turned to me, looking a bit uncomfortable. “This house thing of yours is weird. But to you, everything’s okay, right?”
“Right.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Except, Mother Poison didn’t say anything about a house turning up behind her secret door, did she?”
“Well, she was too busy lashing.” Alfie shrugged. “Maybe the crystal pulled your house right down on top of it?”
I frowned. “And squashed it, you mean?”
“Doubt that! The house passed straight through everything else without any problem, right?” He headed back to the stairs. “Maybe the crystal is on the other side of your house?”
“Out the back you mean?” I nodded thoughtfully, and led the way downstairs.
But I froze as I heard a bang. I hadn’t imagined that. It sounded like the back door going. Cautiously, I crept down the stairs – ooh, yes, there was the creaky step, four from the bottom – this was really home! There were other quiet creaks and shiftings I couldn’t place, but . . .
A squealing voice called from close by and almost stopped my heart: “
“VERITY!” I jumped the rest of the stairs and dashed into the kitchen (which was covered in spilled cutlery, with the back door open). There she stood, outside, in an ice-blue cavern knee-high in dry ice, a bit like a film set. She made a bedraggled figure, fur and toga soaking wet – only her head was fluffy and dry. She glanced back, saw me, smiled with those big beavery teeth of hers, then stepped aside . . .
To reveal, rising up from the swirling mist, a slender stone pedestal.
And resting on the pedestal, a many-sided gemstone, glittering like a star.
“Here it is, Bob-ob-ob.” Verity’s voice was hushed and reverent. “The Humamon Star Jewel.” She danced about, threw back her head and whooped. “We’ve
There. It. Was.
“Whoaaaa!” Alfie came up behind me. “So that’s it, huh? Are we or what? Huh? Where’s Zola?”
“Yeah.” The spell of the moment was broken, and I looked around. “Where is Zola?”
“She . . . didn’t make it.” Verity looked at me solemnly. “The helicopter went out of control. I jumped clear before it crashed. But Zola?” She shrugged and shook her head. “Nahhhh. So, anyways! Come on, Bob-ob-ob. Jewel! There! Go get it!”
“Wait!” I was so shaken by the news of Zola, I had to sit down. To think that crazy-cool gorgon, so arty-farty, with her little dressed-up snakes, was now . . . No. I couldn’t take it in. Not after all we’d been through together. “Are you sure she’s . . . ? I mean, could you have—”
“Nope, no mistake. She’s history. The copter crushed up when it crashed into rocks. Then it exploded. Then all the little bits exploded too.”
Alfie slumped to the floor beside me. “That poor gorgon . . . she saved my life, man. Even if she trashed my copter.” He sniffed. “It’s so sad.”
“I know.” I was close to tears myself.
Remembering
.
“Er, Bob-ob-ob?” Verity waved from beside the pedestal. “Finished remembering, yet? Ready to get on?”
I glared over at Verity. “Zola saved our lives too. You don’t seem very bothered.”
“Oh, I am. Honest. It’s very sad.” Verity paused. “Still, at least Zola helped get us here, right? She didn’t explode into fiery pieces in vain. Yay!” The hamster-thing took an impatient step towards me, and I saw a green glint in her eyes. “Now, come on, Bob-ob-ob! Crystal! Pick it up and wish yourself and your house back to the human world up above. What are you waiting for?”
“Um, you did say I could have a wish on that crystal too?” Alfie looked between us, awkwardly. “I mean, I’m stoked for you, Bob, man, even though I’m sad about the gorgon-dude, but . . . Well, I’ve got nothing left now, you know? No copter, no friends, my sisters are out to get me . . .”
“That . . . that’s true.” I wiped my nose. “Why don’t you go get the jewel?”
“He can’t,” Verity snapped. “It won’t work for monsters. Only humans.”
Alfie blinked. “Huh?”
“Monsters can’t even touch it.” She crossed to the pedestal and reached for the jewel. Her paws went right through it, like it was a projection, some kind of special effect. “So, no wishes for monsters.”
I could feel my frown getting deeper. “Well, I can wish for him.”
“You can’t,” said Verity, “because the crystal will only grant your heart’s desire. Someone else’s doesn’t count.”
Alfie looked as devastated as a rubbery monster could. “You, uh, didn’t mention this back when you wanted me to give you a ride, Vee.”
“Didn’t I? Must’ve slipped my mind.” She tittered ditzily. “Sorrreeeeeeeeee! Now, come on, Bob. Wish!”
“Wait!” I scratched my head. “I thought you came here to take the crystal back to your uncle? How can you, if you can’t even hold it?”
“Oh, no. I can’t!” She sighed and blew a raspberry. “Silly old Uncle Voshto, not even knowing that. Still, he’ll get over it.”
“How did you know that when your uncle didn’t?” I demanded.
“Er, lucky guess?” Verity giggled and nodded to the pedestal. “What are you waiting for, Bob-ob-ob?”
“For you to act normal!” I shot back. “Why are you being so weird?”
“Because she’s not who you think she is!”
I gasped, and Alfie’s jaw dropped as if on a hinge, as a green-tinged figure with a head full of snakes charged through the kitchen with one of Old Mother Poison’s equally old mugs from the cave.
“Zola?” I gasped.
“Watch!” Zola, soggy and snarling and steaming mad, hurled the mug of water into Verity’s face.
Verity squealed with surprise and dismay . . .
And then I did too, and Alfie joined me a nanosecond later.
Because, now Zola had made it wet, we could see something sitting like a horrible hat on that hamster-like head.
The bloated brain-body of a zooloob.
Verity was under its control!
“You snake-haired hag! I thought I’d got rid of you.” The Zooloob throbbed repulsively, and the green in Verity’s eyes deepened as she struck a savage fighting stance. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to finish you off myself.”
“You’re not yourself, Verity. That brain-thing is working you.” Zola smiled grimly.
“And now I can see it, I can do something about it.”
Quick as a flash, the gorgon whipped off her glasses and gave the zooloob her sternest glare. With a the thing on Verity’s head froze and turned to polystyrene. Then – – it toppled from her head and landed lightly on the lino – where Zola stamped on it. With a nerve-scratching squeak it broke apart into bobbly pieces.
Zola replaced her shades. “I call this still life, Sent Packing!”
As the zooloob perished, Verity staggered. “I’m sorry, Zola!” she whispered, wide-eyed. “Sorry, everyone! I didn’t . . . mean . . . to . . .”
Then her eyes flickered shut and she flopped forward onto her face, snoring noisily.
“Oh, Zola!” I ran up with Alfie and hugged her. “I was so scared you were dead.”
“Well, dying can be pretty good for an artist’s career,” Zola considered. “But I’m not popping off just yet if I can help it.” She looked down at Verity curled up on the floor. “After you and Alfie fell from the copter, spray from the rapids got inside. I saw the zooloob on her head. Before I could do anything she shoved me out and down I went into the waterfall.”
“Whoa, man!” Alfie looked at her admiringly. “How did you survive that?”
“My snakes whirled around like a dozen little propellers,” Zola revealed, “enough to break my fall without breaking anything else.”
“But will Verity be okay now?” I crouched beside the twitching hamster-thing. “I suppose the zooloob must’ve got her in Gorgonopolis.”
“No,” Verity whispered weakly. “It found me on Level One. Ever since we met, Bob-ob-ob . . .”
I felt my eyes widen. “Since the beginning?”
“Zooloobs can’t control humans, so it got to you through me . . . Made me fight Killgrotty . . .”
I stroked her wilting ear. “But, why did it want to help me?”
“It wanted to find the Star Jewel.” Verity propped herself up on one paw. “It knew Uncle Voshto would never spill secrets to a stranger, so it made me go to him . . . and let Zola and Alfie come along because they could help us get down here in one piece.”
Alfie eyed her suspiciously. “This is weird, man. You acted so normal.”
“Except for when your eyes turned green,” I remembered.
“That was the zooloob taking charge. The rest of the time it made me forget it was ever there,” Verity explained. “I didn’t know I was tricking you all.”
“The Star Jewel doesn’t work for monsters,” I told Zola. “You can’t make your wishes come true.”
Zola’s snakes jolted into the air in shock. Then they flopped down over her face in dismay. She parted her scaly fringe, gazing wistfully at the Star Jewel. “As all great artists say – ‘oh, bum’.”
“I’m down with the ‘oh, bum’,” Alfie agreed sadly.
I caught movement behind me and jumped. Someone was standing in the kitchen doorway. Someone I hadn’t expected to see. She smiled at me.
“Rachel?” I saw Zola and Alfie huddle together, afraid, while Verity frowned. “It’s all right, Rachel was babysitting when the house blew away.”
“She sits on babies?” Verity stuck out her tongue. “You humans are weird.”
Zola clutched her guts. “She’s not going to fire toxic waste from her—?”
“No. Still no.”
“I was looking after Bob when this dreadful thing happened,” Rachel explained.
“I thought you fell out,” I told her. “I thought I was all alone.”
“No, Bob. I’ve been here all the time.”
Alfie looked surprised. “We didn’t see you when we looked round the house.”
“Oh, I was here,” Rachel assured him, with a smile. “I was asleep. I’ve been here such a long time. I didn’t think you would ever come, Bob.” She took a step towards me, and I thought I heard a quiet skittering noise from the floor beneath us. “Please, can you wish this house back to the human world now?”
“Yes . . .” I looked at the Star Jewel. “Since getting home is my heart’s desire, it’s basically all I can do with this thing. So, why would a zooloob go to all this trouble just to help me leave?”
“Who cares?” Rachel shrugged and walked over to me. “Just say goodbye to these monsters and wish this house back to the human world.”
“The human world?” I looked at her, feeling uneasy. “That would be ‘our world’.”
“Yes, of course. So, take us there.”
I nodded, a horrible theory taking root in my thoughts. “I suppose you can’t wait to get back on the phone to that
rubber plant of yours.”
“I miss my rubber plant,” Rachel agreed.
“And your eight boyfriends need watering.”
She nodded. “They’ll be desperate for water.”
“Do you think your humbugs will throw a welcome home party?”
“I expect so.” The smile slipped from her face and her eyes hardened. “Do it, Bob. Do it now.”
“You’re not Rachel. You’re not even human.” I backed away. “Guys, she’s something else. Something pretending to be Rachel!”
Quick as a flash, Zola whipped off her shades and glared at ‘Rachel’.
But the impostor just laughed. “That might work on lesser monsters,” she said, a low, unearthly note sounding in her voice, “but not on me.”
Verity got up slowly from the ground, her voice a breathy squeak. “Who are you?”
“I am the horror that Merlin placed here so many millennia ago.” ‘Rachel’ was glowing red now, her features shifting, blurring. I felt my sweaty skin crawl as her skinny form mutated into something huge and powerful – a mound of dark flesh, shining with veins, rippling with muscles. A face pushed out from the hunched shoulders – a mask of hate and brutality that sent goosebumps racing round my flesh – with three fierce shining slits for eyes and a jagged chasm for a mouth.
When she spoke again, it was in a low, groaning voice that chilled me to my toes. “Behold me! Banished from the world of humans . . . trapped in the foundations of Terra Monstra, still I am destined to rule over all.
“It’s her!” Verity washed her whiskers for comfort. “It was Bosstradamus controlling that zooloob!”
“I control them all,” the monster bragged. “They have been my eyes and ears.”
“And, er, your floaty brain things,” Alfie added.
Bosstradamus nodded her revolting head. “Once I learned from Voshto the route you would take to reach here, I used the zooloobs to make the gorgons sleep – so you would escort Bob here without delay.”
“You used us all.” Zola put her dark glasses back on, perhaps to hide the fear in her eyes. “But the stories say Merlin buried you in a pit.”